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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327827">My Hand's On Your Grease Gun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626'>Morpheus626</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>FTM Reader, M/M, trans reader - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:48:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Synopsis: Set sometime in 1984. You and Roger in a car, on a day trip to Hull (insert Douglas Reynholm: “That’s right; we’re going to Hull!), plus smut, plus Emotions because apparently I can’t just write pwp, I gotta make it all lovey dovey lmao. </p>
<p>A note that I do not endorse any mucking about like this while driving. Is it hot as fuck? Yeah. Is it also dangerous? Yup! For the sake of fiction, a bit of foreplay with a car in motion is no problem here, but in actual life, cars are dangerous! If you’re gonna do anything smutty in a car, at least have the damn thing parked somewhere safe lmao.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roger Taylor (Queen)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Hand's On Your Grease Gun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re a little shit, you know that?” </p>
<p>Roger’s tone is playful, but his voice shakes slightly.</p>
<p>That lets you know you’re on the right track.</p>
<p>The right track in this case being convincing him to finally pull over and fuck you in the backseat of the car he’s currently driving. He’d spent all of the day prior to the trip (just a day trip to Hull, since you’d never been and as Roger put it, there was ‘fuck all else to do at home’ for the moment) teasing you, insinuating you might not make it to Hull without several stops in secluded areas if he had his way.</p>
<p>Yet once you’d actually gotten into the car, he’d been all focus. Which was fine, but you wanted your fun too.</p>
<p>“I have been told so,” you reply, not moving your hand from where it taps at his inner thigh, teasing at the seam of his jeans. “But I don’t think I’m all that bad, do you?”</p>
<p>He smiles and shakes his head, eyes on the road, but you can tell he wants to be looking elsewhere. “I suppose not. But you’re still something else.”</p>
<p>“Me? No!” you feign shock and awe as your fingers traipse further upwards, lingering but not rubbing or playing with the edge of his hard cock. “I’m an angel, an absolute delight, or so I’ve heard.”</p>
<p>He swallows hard, but it’s a testament to him that he doesn’t waver in his control of the car. This still isn’t exactly safe, and you know better than to push too far while the car is in motion, but all the same you feel safe doing what you are with Rog at the wheel.</p>
<p>“You’ll have to prove that to me later,” he finally smirks. “Angels are breathtaking, aren’t they?”</p>
<p>“I think I can take your breath away, if you give me five minutes,” you joke.</p>
<p>“Only five minutes?” Roger scoffs playfully. “I can’t tell if that’s more insulting to you or to me!”</p>
<p>“Call it even and consider that after that initial five minutes, you could drive us to the hotel and we can repeat any experimenting there, and take all the time we like,” you say, moving just one finger along the line of his cock.</p>
<p>“We could just go straight to the hotel,” he suggests.</p>
<p>“Could, but I’m impatient,” you admit, then lean over so you can whisper in his ear. “And honestly? I’ve dreamed of fucking you in this car until both of us are too out of breath to do anything more than lay there. Surely the hotel and Hull can wait until we’ve done that...”</p>
<p>You settle back into your seat, only your hand staying put in Roger’s lap.</p>
<p>He blushes, and slaps a hand gently on the steering wheel. “Alright. But I’ve got to find us somewhere out of the way. Not going to fuck you with someone’s fucking cows watching from the next field over or something.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough,” you agree, and lean over again, this time to rest your head against his shoulder.</p>
<p>Even without the promise of sex and the teasing, you simply enjoying driving with him. You’ve never felt so safe in a car as you do with him, and there’s a joy in knowing that he’s sharing something he enjoys with you. You only have to ask, and he’ll happily go on at length about the repairs he’s done to the car you’re in, or tell you stories about driving around the country on tour in years past.</p>
<p>Which is why you can’t help but fall asleep for a bit, only waking up at the feeling of his hand in between your legs, and his lips on yours.</p>
<p>“Sorry to wake you,” he smiles. “If you’d rather I get us back on the road,  I can. It won’t hurt me to wait.”</p>
<p>“You found a place?”</p>
<p>He nods, and points out the window to the empty driveway in front of what looks to be an abandoned house, with boarded over windows. “Might be haunted, but you don’t mind if a ghost watches us fuck, right? If you had to choose, cow versus a ghost as a voyeur?”</p>
<p>You break into giggles and move away from him to stretch as best you can. “I suppose I’d choose a ghost. But no one’s here, right?”</p>
<p>Roger shrugs. “Far as I can tell. Drove us all the way down this driveway and onto some of the roads into the back fields, and didn’t see anyone. Not any other vehicles, nothing.”</p>
<p>“Good,” you smile and reach to open your door, but he stops you.</p>
<p>“I don’t know that we need the backseat,” he says, and leans back as he moves the driver’s seat as far back as it can go.</p>
<p>Even more tempting than the backseat is his lap, and you kick off your shoes, slip out of your trousers and pants as quickly as you can manage, watching as he undoes the button of his jeans and moves them down enough to free his cock and balls.</p>
<p>There are condoms in the glove compartment, and you pass one over to him, waiting until it’s on and he’s nodded for you to climb onto him.</p>
<p>You aren’t wet enough to slip him inside yet, but you know it won’t be long with your smaller cock rubbing up against his. His lips are soft and warm against yours, and even with heat behind them, he still makes each kiss feel like the sweetest thing.</p>
<p>His hands travel, finally settling on your ass, helping you settle into a comfortable rhythm with your hips rocking against him.</p>
<p>“What if someone was watching?” he murmurs in between kisses. “What would you think of that, just out of curiosity?”</p>
<p>“If I knew there would somehow be no consequences for it?” you reply. “Then it would be hot as fuck. Bonus points if it’s someone we’d want to be watching.”</p>
<p>He smiles against your lips in another kiss, moving into a whine as you grind down slightly harder on his cock.</p>
<p>Time fades away for awhile, and there’s only you and him. It comes back when your knees start to ache some, and you both quickly move out of the car, only to climb into the backseat instead. You on your back, Roger gently laying on top of you, his cock finally slipping inside.</p>
<p>Immediately, his head drops to your shoulder, and he groans.</p>
<p>“I did say five minutes,” you joke. “And if you count all the making out, then we’re well past that.”</p>
<p>“I know,” he mumbles. “But I didn’t really want to come right away. Give me a moment.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” you smile and hug him close.</p>
<p>For the first few moments, it’s fine. You like the feeling of him inside of you, and it’s all delightfully warm and comfortable.</p>
<p>He picks his head up and gives you a shit-eating grin as you squirm underneath him. “Not yet.”</p>
<p>“You ass.”</p>
<p>He kisses you gently. “Yeah. But you love the anticipation, don’t you?”</p>
<p>You do, truthfully. It’s been a game before; sitting in Roger’s lap in bed, his cock hard inside of you, but no movement. Not right away, at least. On the days there’s decent time, you both prolong it as long as possible, with Roger occasionally reading from whatever book he’s on to keep you both restrained.</p>
<p>But you’ve been teased for essentially two days, and waiting isn’t the name of the game anymore.</p>
<p>“Please,” you beg with a smile, and focusing on tightening yourself around him.</p>
<p>He smirks and finally moves his hips.</p>
<p>If there was anyone watching, they’d certainly be able to hear you now as well.</p>
<p>“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he laughs and kisses you in between your moans and whines. “That’s adorable.”</p>
<p>“Don’t tease,” you sigh and reach your hands down to his hips, letting them rest there as he thrusts.</p>
<p>“I mean it,” he replies, sighing happily himself as you move your hips to meet his. “I always like seeing you happy, you know? But moments like this...you aren’t holding anything back. You’re gorgeous.”</p>
<p>He leans down to kiss you again, and you feel tears hit your face as he does.</p>
<p>“Don’t you start,” you say, tears already prickling at your eyes. “Or I’ll start.”</p>
<p>“Can you blame me?” Roger’s hips are moving slightly more erratically now, you know he’s close, but you aren’t far off yourself. “I’ve got the most handsome, kindest, dearest man in the world, and he’s all mine. If I can’t cry happy tears over that, then I don’t know when I’m allowed to cry.”</p>
<p>“I can’t,” you reply, looping your legs around him, wanting him as close as humanly possible. “But then you can’t blame me for crying over the same.”</p>
<p>There’s no more talking after that, only the two of you, and the last few movements of your hips against each other. You try to hold off, to wait for him, but after a particularly deep kiss that leaves him moaning into your mouth, you’re gone. </p>
<p>You don’t intend on pulling his hair or scratching down his (thankfully covered by his shirt and jacket) back, but in the moment, you can’t help it. </p>
<p>That’s all it takes to set him off, murmuring your name in your ear, rutting against you roughly as he comes. </p>
<p>“Fucking hell,” he mutters a few minutes later, breathing hard, his cock softening inside of you. “I get it now. The appeal of fucking in the car, why you wanted this so badly. Shall we start scheduling this regularly? I think we ought to.” </p>
<p>You giggle and press soft kisses to the side of his face. “Sure. We can start with another stop on the way back home from Hull.” </p>
<p>“We still have to make it to Hull!” </p>
<p>“Which is what, another two hours away? And they do recommend we stop after each hour of the trip for a break; don’t the experts say that?” you tease. </p>
<p>“That they do.” </p>
<p>He smiles and eases up off and out of you, quickly disposing of the condom into an extra empty bag on the floor of the backseat and tucking himself back into his pants. After his jeans are sitting back on his hips and buttoned, he retrieves your pants and trousers from the front seat and tosses them back to you. </p>
<p>“Mind if I lean on you again?” you ask as you climb over into the passenger seat again. He’s already back in the driver’s seat, sunglasses snagged from the center console and covering his pretty blue eyes. </p>
<p>“’Course not,” he smiles and pats his shoulder. </p>
<p>He doesn’t start the car until you’re comfortable against him, and even then, he’s careful as he slowly backs the car out and down the long gravel driveway. </p>
<p>Once you’re back on paved road, a hand wanders again. This time, to hold one of yours. </p>
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